A Renaissance Affair
by Exile Wrath
Summary: A poor street artist. Two noblemen, one soon to be forced to marry, one free. The three are pulled into the darker side of Renaissance Italy when Hibari Kyoya, who has lost the traditional battle for the right of not marrying for the Nuvola, meets the artist that he discovers will set him free. But Alaude isn't do willing to let his brother have his way with Tsuna so easily. A2718
1. Florence Gates

**This is HISTORICAL FANFICTION. DO NOT KILL US FOR BUTCHERED HISTORY: IT'S ALL FOR A REASON.**

**Summary: **In 1579, the Nuvola overthrew the Medici for control of Florence, taking control of the entire city-state and lying down iron law. Now, in 1603, one of the young heirs of the Nuvola, Kyouya Hibari, is 24. After losing the traditional battle to see which unfortunate Cloud in the family would be forced to marry off, his older brother Alaude having won the fight, Hibari struck a deal with the head of the family, Riccio Nuvola. If he could find a talented enough painter that the family could patronize and thus increase their reputation, he would be let off scot-free and Fong's children would inherit the name of Nuvola. It is during this search for an artist strong enough to pass his father's trials that Alaude accidentally gets handcuffed to poor street artist Tsunayoshi Sawada, who had just came to Florence in order to make money to send to his sister Kyoko to hire a doctor to treat their mother.

And thus a snowball of events becomes an avalanche, and Hibari refuses to let the one that will set him from his fate capture his heart, as he wishes to be free from marriage, love, and romance. And Alaude will not stand to see the innocent artist drawn into the world of lies, politics, and deception that is Renaissance Italy. In the meantime, Tsuna is wondering how in the world he got two noblemen unwilling to let him go, and now he can see his plans to help cousin Giotto's vigilante group fly out the window.

For the bird that has a cage chasing it will do anything to be free, the free bird does not believe that the ends justify the means, and the artist is falling, slipping into their hearts all too quickly.

_"Tsuna," Giotto muttered in an exasperated tone, "Stop seducing all the guys around you."_

_"What do you mean!?" Tsuna yelped, cheeks turning red as he fell off his stool in the middle of unbuttoning his linen shirt, cloth falling away to reveal his slim upper torso. At that moment, two thuds were heard outside his room, and Giotto facepalmed as he opened the door, revealing Alaude and Hibari glaring at each other, both on their knees as they clutched their nosebleeds._

_With a dull click, he slammed the door shut. "Now you get it?" Giotto asked his poor cousin._

* * *

A Renaissance Affair

First Sketch: Florence Gates

In the residency area of the city of Florence, a young spiky-haired brunet looked at the city towers longingly. He had finally arrived in the city that would help fulfill his dreams. "Thank you for everything, Kyoko," he said to his companion gratefully. The woman next to him smiled kindly.

"It's okay, Tsuna," she said, "No need to thank me. You need to do this, and I'll take care of Nana. We both care for Mama, you know."

"Love you, Kyoko," the artist said, hugging his sister briefly. "Stay safe, please. I'll send money every month when I start making some steady income." Kyoko's smile turned sad.

"Tsuna, the city is dangerous. Don't get fleeced, don't get tricked by anyone," she warned, knowing full well the extent of her brother's gullibility. He laughed nervously, and Kyoko swung a leg up onto their horse. Her orange hair had been pinned and she was wearing their father's old clothes, allowing her to just barely pass as a male. "Love you, brother." Tsuna stood there and waved as his sister cantered out of sight.

Setting his luggage down on the cobblestones in front of the building, Tsuna sat down on one of his knapsacks, allowing himself a sigh. Hana, their friend that had moved to Florence a few years ago, had kept in contact with his family ever since she and his big brother had moved. He was to be staying with her until he found a steady income and earned a few commissions. But seeing as she was not in the house at the moment, Tsuna was left to sitting on his luggage to wait for her to come home.

As the minutes passed, Tsuna quickly grew bored. When the city' bells tolled the hour in the distance, he sighed once again, unfolding from his position and unpacking his drawing pad, easel, and charcoal sticks. Flipping to a blank page, he began first lightly sketching the bustling city scene in front of him, quickly growing absorbed in his work. However, in his concentration, he grew ignorant to the amount of people watching him, selecting different pieces of charcoal for shading, sketching, and switching perspective.

Tsuna didn't consider himself a particularly amazing artist. He had been taught by his deceased father, Iemitsu Sawada, and had continued painting and drawing mainly as a hobby. Sometimes, he sold pieces to people and travelers going through his tiny home village in Emilia-Romagna for extra money. His close friends and the other villagers held him in great esteem, but with the onset of Nana's illness, Tsuna had chosen to leave for Florence to hopefully begin his career as a professional artist, to finance his family and maybe gain renown. As he finished sketching the whole scene and picked up a charcoal to begin adding in the finer details, Tsuna became aware of the people crowding around him, looking at his drawing pad with amazement and appreciation.

He sputtered out of his concentration; a furious blush spreading across his face, as Florence welcomed its new artist to its land.

* * *

When the Nuvola had overthrown the Medici in 1575, they had taken over and ruled Florence with iron discipline. Florence had the lowest crime rate in Europe, all due to the Nuvola. The current family head was a man by the name of Riccio d'Nuvola, a man with a ridiculous name but could easily and mercilessly beat down even the most hardened of criminals. His eldest child was Fong Nuvola-Arcobaleno, one of the Il Prescelti Sette and one of the seven bestowed with the name of Arcobaleno. His wife's name was I-Pin Nuvola, his former student but now his lifetime partner, a woman of fearsome agility and wit. The second eldest of the family was Lal Mirch Arcobaleno, also one of the Selected Seven and one of the chief commanders of Italy's elite COMSUBIN. Then was their second son, Alaude Nuvola. There were rumors that he was an illegitimate child between Riccio and a Frenchwoman, but none dared cross him as long as he was Chief of City Order. Then, there was Kyouya Hibari, the youngest child, but he certainly wasn't weak. The world would end, the people of Florence would say, when one of the Nuvola family was weak in their prime years.

No-one dared try to revolt against the Nuvola, and as long as the family's main interest was just keeping discipline in their city-state, no one really had the urge to do so. Thus, Florence was a great city for artists to come and begin their careers without worry of being robbed or worse. But one of the major flaws of the Nuvola which prompted artists to keep away was that they all had exceptionally good appearances. Thus, every year on the celebration of the Nuvola's takeover of Florence, the streets were plagued with young women hoping to catch the eye of one of the unmarried sons, and there were contests among the bachelors to catch Lal's attention. If any of the younger Nuvola appeared on the streets that day, they would promptly be swarmed with fangirls. Often, young men did not pick Florence as a place of residence, as nearly all the eligible women were hopelessly infatuated with the younger Nuvola heirs.

At the moment though, steel clashed in the training garden as Hibari and Alaude fought viciously, going at each other with full intent to kill, mouths set in grim lines and eyes only showing bloodlust. On the side of the area stood Riccio, Lal, Fong, and I-Pin, all simply observing the struggle with mild interest. This spar was an important one for the family. Both of the youngest were eligible bachelors, and as Arcobaleno, Lal and Fong were unable to inherit the Nuvola's fortunes and have their descendants carry the line. Thus, the loser of the fight would be the one to find a bride to continue the line and add to the fame of the Nuvola by preferably marrying an allied family's daughter. Now, it might seem odd that it was the loser to be bestowed with this duty, but it was truly rare for any of the Nuvola to be like Fong and willingly bond themselves to a person. Hence, it was the loser that would be married off.

With one last clash, handcuffs met tonfa and Alaude struck Hibari's temple directly with the other handcuff in his hand. Hibari flew sideways, and blonde took the opportunity to disarm his younger brother of his tonfa and cuffed Hibari's wrists together. When the dust cleared, it was obvious to the four observers that the youngest had lost the battle, hands down. The black-haired man struggled upright, eyes flashing with anger, resentment, hatred, and resistance all at once. "No…"

"The loser is Kyouya," Lal announced, raising her arm in front of her. "You know the rules." The defeated clenched his fists, standing up and dusting off his clothes, giving Alaude a venomous glare as the winner tossed the keys to the handcuffs to him. There were no second chances; his fate was sealed. "You have one year to propose to a bride. After that, you'll be marrying the next woman that tries to court you." Everyone grimaced at the implications.

Hibari scowled, "Why must I marry and be chained down to some herbivorous woman?" he demanded, even though he knew it was a childish question.

Riccio frowned at Hibari's behavior, "Prestige. Strengthening alliances. Carrying the Nuvola line," he explained briefly, "The standard reasons for marriage. Prestige is the most important, of course."

"An artist, talented and charismatic, would help our reputation more than a marriage," Hibari rebutted.

Riccio raised an eyebrow. "Are you daring to refute me, child?" the man asked in an amused voice. His son gritted his teeth at the affectionate word. He was twenty-five years old, not five, for God's sake! "But as I know that you would rather be a priest than marry, shall we make a deal?" All eyes shot to the patriarch.

Lal was the first to respond with a, "Father, have your brains been addled? What of the bloodline?"

Fong frowned at Lal's choice of words, "Lal, calm yourself. I am sure Father has a good reason for this."

His wife spoke up next. "I am curious to what deal you wish to make with your youngest, Father." I-Pin referred to Riccio as "Father" as a sign of a respect. "To let him off would be breaking tradition."

Riccio held up a hand to cut off the talking. "Have you any words, Alaude?" When the blonde just grunted, he continued, "If you can find an artist that can match my expectations and standards, one that will raise the Nuvola's reputation as a patron of the arts like the other families, then you do not have to marry and Fong and I-Pin's firstborn will inherit after your generation dies. After all, the rule is only that the Arcobaleno be unable to inherit their original names. I-Pin is not an Arcobaleno, so their children can carry on the line. But you only have one year to find someone. Understood?" Hibari nodded, despair turning into determination.

"I will find an artist to decorate our house and the name of Nuvola," Hibari murmured, bowing respectfully.

The patriarch nodded. "You are all dismissed, children." With that, the Clouds dispersed, the youngest with a dark smirk on his face.

Really, how hard would finding a skilled painter in the city of Florence be?

* * *

_That had been seven months ago_

* * *

For seven months, Hibari had fruitlessly brought painters, sculptors, ever architects to his father. None passed the trial set before them. Riccio's test was a test of combat, a test that no aesthetically-minded person would have chance of winning. After that was a trial of artistic talent, but no one had passed the first to know the second. The man gritted his teeth, punching the wall in frustration. Oh course his father would set him an impossible task like this.

"Young master, please don't punch the walls like that. My husband has enough trouble repairing the training rooms that you and your relatives bash up every hour," one of the head maids, Hana, snapped while she took out a scrap of paper from her apron as well as a small quill filled with ink in the rachis, allowing her to use it without having to dip it constantly. She quickly jotted down a note, probably to her husband to fix the new hole. Hibari grunted, walking down the hall and towards the training rooms. To his displeasure, the head maid followed right behind. She watched in amusement as Hibari's hands tensed, twitching for his tonfa. "Still mulling over your artist problem?" she jibed.

"None of your business," he snarled, stalking away. Hana snorted, then paused, weighing the consequences of asking for an early leave for today. Her brother-in-law was supposed to be arriving in Florence today, and she hadn't exactly left the door unlocked.

"Master Hibari," she called after her boss, "I request an early leave today. My brother-in-law is coming to Florence to stay awhile, and I need to help him settle in. He is an artist, so it would be inconvenient for him to simply wait outside my home until I am off my shift."

Hibari stopped in his tracks. Hana's husband, Ryohei Sasagawa, was a strong man and excellent fighter. Logically then… "You may not go," he commanded, spinning on his heel to stride towards the great front doors, "until I am back." Hana was left blinking in semi-confusion, and then face-palmed at her realization of Hibari's newest train of thought.

"Tsuna… please don't die by the hands of that demonic bird," she prayed, "And please don't grab his interest either. Heaven knows that he might end up forcing you to help him."

* * *

"Young man, what is your name?" an elderly gentleman exclaimed, peering over Tsuna's shoulder to stare at the charcoal sketch. The people in the crowd clamored and pushed, wanting to see the charcoal sketch more. Charcoal sketches were new in these days; a novelty. Most "high artists" preferred traditional painting, sculpture, and other forms of art; charcoal and simple sketching were disdained as an "amateur's work". But the crowd milling around Tsuna were highly appreciative of his work.

Suddenly, the crowd fell silent as they started fleeing from the scene, leaving behind a bewildered artist who was still at a loss for words.

The rattling of chains met his ears as Tsuna stared into the eyes of the stranger that had suddenly appeared in front of him. "For causing a crowd, I will have to arrest you," the man rumbled. Tsuna squeaked in fear as the blond took out a pair of handcuffs.

"Eeh!? But I didn't do anything!" Tsuna stammered in confusion, "And I only arrived in the city about four hours ago!"

Alaude looked at the herbivore in distaste. He had been bored lately; Florence had a rather nonexistent criminal population as of late. His siblings had been preoccupied with their duties, and in short, Alaude Nuvola was a fight-deprived carnivore. With a sigh, he swiped at the herbivore's arm with a handcuff, and to his surprise that instead of attempting to dodge like a normal herbivore, the strange one's eyes seemed to flash gold as he allowed himself to be cuffed, then grabbed the chain and used his momentum to break from Alaude, spinning the handcuffs around one wrist while the other still clutched a charcoal stick. A few feet away, Alaude looked at the artist in interest. For the reputation that artists were physically weak, this brunet defied that. "You. Fight me," the Cloud demanded.

Tsuna blinked several times, his eyes going to normal as he processed what the blond policeman had said. "Hieee! What do you mean – and how do I get these cuffs off!?"

"I have the keys to unlock them," Alaude grunted. "Now what is your name?"

Tsuna flushed, berating himself for missing such an obvious answer. "M-My name is Tsunayoshi Sawada, Mr. Policeman," he replied, holding his arm out. "Will you please uncuff me?"

"Only if you fight me." Alaude's eyes gleamed with fighting lust. "And I am Alaude Nuvola, Chief of City Order; not 'Mr. Policeman'," he introduced with a trace of humor.

The brunet stepped back, holding his hands up in protest. "But- fighting is bad! A-and why me!? How was I supposed to know that you were Alaude Nuvola!? I said I just got here four hours ago!" Here Tsuna was forced to backflip away from the young lord as another handcuff hit right where his arm had been. Alaude smiled in delight, pleased with the reaction. "Hey! Are you- are you listening!?"

"Do not tell me what to do, herbivore," the policeman snarled, stepping forward and exchanging blows with Tsuna. To his satisfaction, his sparring partner was able to dodge or block all of his strikes, and he even managed to slip in a few punches and palm strikes. "Who taught you to fight?"

"My-" Duck, aim for the waist, draw back to block. "-father!" Tsuna panted. He didn't have much stamina for prolonged fights, Alaude noticed disappointedly. But that could be improved. The blond moved his head to the side to dodge a punch from Tsuna's cuffed hand. "But he's dead!" The last line was said in a flat voice that indicated it was a subject not to be broached. Alaude frowned at the faraway expression that Tsunayoshi wore, throwing another handcuff only for it to latch onto the other end of the cuff already around his opponent's wrist. "Eeh!? Another one!?" he shrieked, flailing and missing Alaude's stomach by a centimeter. Alaude reached to grab for another pair of cuffs, but when he raised them to block another swing, Tsuna tripped, falling on top of him with an "Uhn!"

The skylark found himself on his back, on the cobblestones, his sparring partner sprawled on top of him with red cheeks, panting heavily due to exertion, and to his surprise, the blond felt no immediate urge to shove the artist off his body. It was a weird sensation; something in the back of his head telling him to leave the strange herbivore alone, on top of him. Another niggling voice insisted that _he _should be on top; to flip the obviously tired younger man under him. Both were confusing and giving him a headache, so Alaude just shut both of them up and shoved them into a mental cabinet for later observations.

Tsuna, on Alaude's chest, was tired, his hands clutching the cloth in front of him weakly as he closed his eyes, trying to recover his breath. He leaned his head against the chest under him, completely oblivious to their positions, their legs tangled together suggestively. It was when Alaude propped up on his elbows that Tsuna's eyes shot open, the movement bringing him to his senses as he shot up, leaping up from Alaude's body as he went red with embarrassment. "HIIIIEEE! I really apologize, Mr. Nuvola!" Tsuna cried, wringing his hands. Before he could continue apologizing, though, or Alaude could cut in, an ominous click greeted their ears. If possible, his blush grew redder as he realized that he was now cuffed to a… rather handsome guy. Tsuna was pretty sure he was not homosexual, but artists knew how to appreciate eye candy. "You do have the keys on you, right? Dios, I'm sorry for being so clumsy!"

Alaude's expression remained stoic as he observed the situation. He and the not-herbivore were linked together by three handcuffs, their left hands attached. As the half-French stood up, dusted off his trench coat, and flatly explained, "The keys are in my office," he observed the other male's reaction, which ranged from sputtering, bowing several times in apology, and passing several worried glances at his luggage.

"B-but I-I can't leave my belongings in the open l-like th-this…" he stammered, unaware of Alaude's keen gaze on him. "I mean- no offense to the police force and all, but-"

"I get it, not-herbivore." Tsuna's brows furrowed in confusion at the nickname. "By the way, exactly what is your age?"

If possible, Tsuna's face went redder. "I-I'm nineteen!" he cried.

Alaude blinked several times. "I nearly mistook you as fourteen," he muttered, Tsuna's sharp ears picking it up.

The artist pouted miserably, looking more like a child than his age. "But- well, you look like you're twenty-eight, mister," he rebutted.

"The name's Alaude, and I _am _twenty-eight," came the amused reply. "So what do you propose to do?" he asked, gesturing to their linked arms. "My office is near the center of the town, about an hour and a half away from here if we take the shortcuts."

Tsuna's complexion returned to normal as he grimaced and pointed to his items. "But- my stuff! And I'm waiting for my brother-in-law and his wife to arrive so I can move in, but I don't know when they'll be back. I also wanted to finish my sketch, but if it's a bother . . ." He trailed off, looking at Alaude uncertainly.

The man was thinking furiously. If he dragged the art-herbivore off to get the keys from his office, people would probably steal from him, and that wouldn't be good. But if he stayed, then he would have to wait an unknown amount of time for the house's owner to arrive, and then help the brunet move, and then the trip to his office amounted to make the whole situation about five hours long. "We can stay here and wait," Alaude said decisively. "I'll get one of my men to get the keys from my office and we'll wait here in the meantime."

"A-are you sure?" Tsuna stuttered. "I mean, wouldn't it be a bother? You're a policeman and all . . ."

The blond raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh? Do you not know the name 'Nuvola'?" Tsuna frowned, biting his lip in confusion. "Truly and seriously?"

"I… er… the name rings a bell, but I sort of don't remember a lot of stuff unless it has to do with art or anything my parents taught me," he admitted sheepishly.

Alaude scowled. "Nuvola. We overthrew the Medici and took hold of Florence," he stated, causing Tsuna to facepalm, then stop and stare at him in shock.

With a trembling finger pointing at the nobleman, he cried, "Th-the-then you're- holy strawberry sheetcake I'm truly sorry, sir!", bowing down apologetically even more.

Alaude yanked upwards on the chains, stopping more apologetic bows. "Silence, herbivore," Alaude demanded, dragging Tsuna back to his luggage and art items. The poor teen watched inquisitively as Alaude adjusted the luggage, sitting down on some bags as he gestured towards the easel. "Well? What are you waiting for?" The younger teen sat down in confusion. "Finish drawing."

"Eh?" was his intelligent reply as Tsuna sat back on his stool, their chains clanking.

"One of my men should be coming by shortly. In the meantime, you may as well finish your drawing," Alaude ordered curtly. Tsuna nodded hesitantly, picking up his charcoal once again and turning to his giant drawing pad, setting the black to the paper and sketching the tailor shop in front of him once more with measured, precise strokes. The policeman raised an eyebrow in fascination at the amount of detail the artist caught. The realism was impeccable and the shading impressive as Tsuna swapped between charcoal and different grayscales. Alaude found himself drawn to the artwork and was barely able to remember to flag down one of his men and instruct them to fetch the keys of the handcuffs from his office, with additional warnings not to tamper with the keys whatsoever. The man walked off as Tsuna flipped back his page, revealing a new sheet of paper. "Finished already?" Tsuna nodded sheepishly. "May I see?" The sheet was turned back, leaving the nobleman nearly speechless. Alaude had seen many great works by the Masters before, and Tsuna was just shy of mastery.

"I think this is one of my better pieces," he whispered softly, not going unheard by Alaude.

"Are you going to draw more?" he asked carefully. Even if they didn't seem it, the Nuvola Family had a good eye and appreciation for art pieces and their makers. Thus, Alaude wanted to see more of Tsuna's hands at work on the paper. The teen's eyes started between the policeman and the drawing pad. "Hm?"

"Since- well- we'll be waiting a while can I . . ." The last part was muttered, Tsuna's face going red. Hurriedly, he asked, "I . . . can I draw you, Mr. Nuvola?" His face went even redder as he quickly added, "You don't have to if you don't want to, it's just I like drawing people and you-" He stopped, looking at Alaude with wide eyes as he bent over, shoulders shaking as he laughed soundlessly into his palms. "E-eh?"

"Haha- hahaha . . . you are a rather interesting artist, herbivore," Alaude choked between chuckles. "By all means, go ahead. And for the last time, call me Alaude, Tsunayoshi."

Tsuna was now as red as a tomato. "Uh- o-okay- uh- Alaude," he stuttered shyly, cheeks red with embarrassment. "C-could you move closer to me so I can draw you more easily?" The man complied and Tsuna suddenly felt very self-conscious about his own scrawny, ordinary appearance. As he slowly began drawing the faint outlines of Alaude, Tsuna marveled at his first encounter with a nobleman. Tsuna thought that they would be more haughty and cool, but Alaude was a just a kind person under a gruff exterior. It was with a happy, soft smile that Tsuna drew his new friend (in Alaude's eyes, fighting partner), and it was that beatific smile that Eros decided to have a little fun and sniped Alaude's heart with a dove-tipped arrow.

It was a little while later that Tsuna fidgeted a bit, growing slightly uncomfortable with the intent stare Alaude was giving him. Our favorite Tsuna-fish really had no clue as to his own appearance. He thought of himself as scrawny, but one could easily see he was on the lithe side, muscles hidden with some baby fat still on his cheeks, giving him a slightly feminine appearance. He had rather large eyes that seemed to convey his every emotion so easily, and his brown hair stuck out everywhere in spiky locks. Sometimes, one couldn't help but compare him to an innocent little rabbit, stuck in a world full of wolves and foxes. Tsuna couldn't help but compare his poor image of himself to Alaude. The cloud had light, white blond hair and sharp, narrowed blue eyes. He wore a fine trench coat, obviously for work purposes rather than showing off his status, and the way he carried himself with pride and self-confidence would make a lesser man feel ashamed and humbled. He was a good five inches taller than Tsuna.

It was this air of calm observation that curious souls, many of them Alaude's fangirls, once again started gathering around the duo, shocked whispers running about like wildfire. Apparently, not only was the newcomer a talented young artist, he had managed to get on a _Nuvola's_ good side upon first meeting. Imagine their surprise at the discovery of the new friends. It was not lost on Alaude that Tsunayoshi was growing steadily more uncomfortable as the crowd talked with each other, some commenting on the portrait of Alaude, many girls squealing at his appearance in public, and some speculating on how Tsunayoshi and he had gotten on good terms.

Before Alaude could threaten the crowd away, Tsuna asked softly, "Can you turn back this way, Alaude?" A few gasps ran through the crowd at the brunet's use of his first name, but the duo ignored them as their eyes met. Alaude found himself drowning in those expressive caramel eyes, nabbing the feeling and shoving it in a mental cabinet with the previous emotions for later interrogation and examination. "Hold that pose, please; I'm trying to do your eyes," Tsuna instructed, voice slightly shaky with embarrassment. Alaude was sitting in a relaxed position, legs open and head propped on one hand, staring at the artist and his drawing pad.

One skylark had just fallen out of the clouds and met the gentle, friendly sky.

In order to distract himself from the people's unnerving stares, Tsuna, who had just begun on Alaude's hands, asked, "If you're a nobleman, then you have a lot of power, right? So why were you patrolling the streets yourself rather than just sending a subordinate to do your bidding?"

Alaude snorted at the sheer ridiculousness of the thought. "Tsunayoshi. Subord-"

"Tsuna. Just call me Tsuna. Tsunayoshi is a mouthful," he interrupted. The blond gave him 'the look', not liking being interrupted. "Sorry!" Tsuna immediately squeaked.

"Fine… Tsuna." Alaude found himself on the receiving end of a bright smile, and he could swear that there were flowers in the background. "Subordinates may be reliable, but a noble knows more about his lands and governments if he himself walks among the people than having fifty men report to him every day. Furthermore, what fun is there in letting _lackeys _defeat all the prey?"

"Oh," Tsuna commented lamely, feeling a bit stupid. "Umm, what is your family like? I- my father is dead; I told you that already. I have a brother and a sister. My sister is staying with our mother in our hometown because Mother is sickly. Big brother lives here in, Florence, with his wife, and I came here to live with them while I try to make money to send to my sister to pay for Mother's medicines. She's rather sickly as of late." Here he moved to the upper body, lightly sketching the shoulders. "Do you have siblings, Alaude?"

"Yes. Two brothers and a sister," he replied gruffly, senses going alert as he felt a familiar sense of bloodlust coming near them. Presently, the screams of fear and fangirls started up. "Speak of the devil."

"Ah, brother. What a pleasant surprise," Hibari greeted sarcastically, brandishing his tonfa. "I was wondering why the herbivores were crowding. Now," His eyes flicked between Alaude, Tsuna, and the handcuffs. "Why are you handcuffed to an herbivore?"

Before Alaude could answer, Tsuna turned on his stool, looking at Hibari. "It's my fault, really!" he cried, "I tripped and fell on Alaude and the cuffs closed!"

Hibari didn't know whether to be pleased or disappointed. He wasn't enough of a fool not to realize that the only reason the artist was calling Alaude by his first name was if he had been given expressed permission. Not only that, but the reason for three pairs of handcuffs linking them would be if Alaude had gotten in combat, thrown the handcuffs, and the herbivore had managed to fight back on a somewhat even level with his brother. 'Weakling' he mouthed, receiving a dark glare from Alaude. "If so, what are you doing here and… _crowding_?" The last word came out as a snarl.

"Waiting for one of my men to get the keys from my office," Alaude retorted. The crowd looked on in interest, as the Nuvola were notorious for their hatred in crowding and generally being in a large group of people, relatives included. Thus, seeing two clouds together in public was a rarity. Tsuna looked between the noblemen curiously and innocently. "Tsunayoshi. This is my younger brother, Hibari Kyoya."

"Different last names?" he asked politely, shrinking away a bit from the black-haired man's stare. _Really, where was Hana!? _he thought desperately, picking up his charcoal once again to finish Alaude's portrait. All he needed to do now was the torsoand finish shading. With a yawn, Tsuna stretched his arms, loosening his tense back, then putting charcoal onto paper once again, tuning out the sounds around him as the crowd fled in the face of two crowd-hating skylarks.

"Why not just break the handcuff, like you did the one time Lal got you to a pole?" Hibari grunted, looking at Tsuna from the corner of his eye with a predatory glint. Alaude, recognizing the look, glared back.

The question jolted the brunet from his zone, and he looked at Alaude with alarm. "You can break them!?" he cried, pointing at his chains. "Why didn't you say so before? O-or at least did it?"

Alaude glared daggers at Hibari. "I was handcuffed to an iron pole by my elder sister. I broke the chains and the pole in the process of getting free. The iron pole was snapped in two," he clarified. Tsuna paled in shock. "Now you understand?"

"Well, in that case… wait, you broke an iron pole!? You're _that _strong!?"

A soft, kind voice slipped into the conversation. "Alaude is one befitting the name 'Nuvola'. A true fighter, a strong, aloof, drifting cloud; it is natural that he'd be able to do such a thing." In Tsuna's field of vision, there was a man similar in appearance to Hibari, but his eyes were softer and his hair was in a long braid. They were also dressed differently; the newcomer was in loose, red garb and baggy white pants as compared to Hibari's more formal white dress shirt with black jacket draped over his shoulders. "Father says that we have received guests from the Nebbia and that your presence is required at dinner this evening. Both of you."

"Fong," both skylarks synced darkly. "_All _the Nebbia?" Tsuna felt the suppressed tension in the air grow tenfold.

"Daemon Spade, Fran Spade, Mukuro Rokudo, and Chrome Dokuro," the man said calmly. "By the way, Daemon has gifted his son a scythe similar to his. It is repeated that Daemon is teaching him his battle techniques. Same with Mukuro and his sister, though I have not heard much about her fighting progress as Fran's."

"Great. All the fruits are coming," Alaude growled darkly. "The female pineapple and the frog apple are tolerable, but I will arrest the melon to death."

Tsuna broke out of his reverie, setting down his darkest charcoal stick with a contented smile, the one he wore wheneverhe was feeling pleased with himself. The portrait of his new… _acquaintance_ wasn't half bad, he supposed. Turning to Alaude and ignoring the irritation in the air, Tsuna gently tugged the handcuffs. "Alaude! I'm done!" With a grunt, all three of the clouds broke out of their irritated manners and turned to the drawing pad. It took a tad bit of effort to not show their surprise. The brunet was startlingly good at capturing detail, from the folds of his trench coat to the individual cufflinks. The drawn eyes were looking off to the side yet observing, and the body drawn and ready to move at any time, the tightened muscles in the fists tucked under Alaude's chin, faint yet noticeable**.** It was at that moment which Hibari knew he had found the artist that would set him free from marriage.

"Wao," he said, breaking the stunned silence. "Not bad for an herbivore."

"You are quite skilled, Tsunayoshi," Alaude commented idly, a little surprised at how the portrait was so detailed. It was like looking in a mirror, "And that was quite fast."

Fong simply observed the interactions with approval. It appeared that both skylarks had somewhat taken a shine to Tsunayoshi, something good considering how antisocial both were. Maybe the artist would be able to influence them both positively. "It is currently three in the afternoon," he remarked, the bells of Florence tolling the time in the distance. "Your presence is expected by five thirty. Dinner starts at six, but I am afraid of the possible consequences of leaving five bored Nebbia roaming the mansion."

Hibari's attention went from Tsuna to his eldest brother. "Five? You only said the four fruit-heads were coming. Who else from that family?" he interrogated.

Fong frowned in thought. "I forgot to mention Mammon as well," he admitted.

"Fantastic. Three Arcobaleno in the same city," Alaude said sarcastically. "Why are the Nebbias coming to Florence?"

"Apparently, Fran, Mukuro, and Daemon destroyed half the Indigo Manor while dealing with assassins. Chrome also accidentally destroyed the east wing, and Mammon was worse with the rest of the buildings since the assassins planted bombs in the foundations. They'll be staying here as punishment from Alphonso Nebbia for all the damages," the man explained kindly. "The rest of the family will be staying in Bologna while they finish interrogations for rebuilding." With the last line, Fong zipped away over the rooftops, praying that the illusion-wielding relatives hadn't traumatized any of the staff yet.

"I'll be off as well, then," Hibari said darkly. "I have a pineapple to bite to death." Here he made eye contact with his brother and Tsunayoshi, smirking a bit as Tsuna turned away with a slightly blushing face. "I hope to see your work someday," he said politely as he bowed slightly and then disappeared over the rooftops.

Alaude frowned. _That brother… intends to use Tsunayoshi, _he thought to himself. It wasn't a pleasant thought. True, the artist would receive patronage and possible fame, but at the same time, it was apparent that Tsuna was content with making small, gradual money. With a mental sigh, Alaude discarded the thoughts and settled on his seat. A sound of light brushing caught his attention and he looked up, only to see Tsuna sketching an outline of Hibari and Fong with a delighted look. He clearly was a true street artist, drawing whatever and whoever he saw. With a resigned shake, Alaude leaned back and just watched as the lines grew from the edge of the charcoal. For the moment, he enjoyed the peace.

* * *

Hana didn't know whether to be worried or relieved. Master Kyoya (because with the youngest Nuvola, he had to be referred to by the staff as 'Young Master Kyoya' or 'Hibari'), had returned with a smirk playing on his lips. He was in. A. _GOOD_. MOOD. And as she and the other servants often said, every time a cloud smiles, except Master Fong or his wife, a person's fate was doomed.

"Mou. A penny for your thoughts?" A monotone voice cut in. The head maid spun from her work with the laundry, not letting her expression change upon sight of the 'bad joke' of the Nebbia, because Fran Spade was the only adopted child into the Nebbia Family, and the city-state of Emilia-Romagna considered it a really bad joke from God to make the addition a somewhat hybrid between Daemon Spade and Mammon Viper.

"Ah, good evening, young Spade. What are you doing here?" Hana asked cordially. Fran was generally a 'good' person. 'Don't attract the green-haired child's interest' was common advice.

The androgynous boy yawned, bored, and answered in monotone, "There's no one to make fun of. Nappo-aniki and Daemon are in their room, Chrome is in the kitchen, and I need my malevolent energy to live. Mammon's counting money again. So what were you thinking about?" Hana paled. "Come on, tell me. I'm bored."

_At least_, Hana thought coldly, _at least the 'bad joke' doesn't terrorize the staff like his family when bored. _"It's nothing that concerns you, young Spade. Now, why not find something to do?" she replied lightly.

Fran yawned again, not bothering to cover his mouth. "Don't want to. Too lazy," he said back lazily, plopping onto a couch.

Perhaps an explanation of Nebbia Family relationships would be useful now. The Nebbia patriarch was a sly, cunning man by the name of Alphonso Medici de Nebbia, the deposed Medici heir from before the Nuvola had overthrown the Medici. It had been rumored that the Medici had kicked out their youngest heir because of murdering the first one, Giovanni, and his would-be-fiancé, Dulcina of Aragon, preventing Spain from helping the Medici stop the Nuvola revolution. Then Alphonso had gone off and married to one Catherine Nebbia, landing him his position today. He had four children: Mammon Viper Nebbia Arcobaleno, Daemon Spade, and then Catherine had borne a second pair of twins, Mukuro Rokudo and Chrome Dokuro, dying shortly after labor. Daemon and Mammon were twenty-eight, Mukuro and Chrome twenty-four. It was when Daemon was nineteen that rumors had begun circulating about him having a child. It was only partially true, really. Fran was currently twenty and his child, dragged off the streets for reasons known only to the Nebbia siblings. However, sometimes Daemon would hint at the reason, but no one had ever gotten a concrete answer.

Said Daemon Spade was rather fearsome when it came to destroying a person's sanity. A master at both combat and mental games, and his insignia of work was a spade. The Nebbia Family was repeatedly the greatest group when it came to infiltration and intelligence. 'Deception' was Daemon's second name. That also went for Mukuro Rokudo. The brothers were extremely similar with their 'fruity' hairstyles, choice in weapons (scythe and trident, respectively), and signature laughs, both of which were heralds of future catastrophe. As the popular expression went, "'Nufufu,' run to Fran. 'Kufufu,' flee to Chrome." The youngest children were the only few capable of pacifying an angered Nebbia. Though Fran would probably just join in on the destruction.

Chrome Dokuro was by far the nicest, kindest Nebbia in the whole bloodline, which is saying something, considering the treacherous, misty history of the Nebbia. Her purple hair was spiked up in the back like Mukuro's, and she wore an eye patch with a chrome skull on it, having last her eye during a nearly successful assassination attempt on her life. The whole Emilia-Romagna countryside was fiercely protective of Chrome. That was how popular of a figure she was.

And the most elusive Nebbia of the lot was Mammon Viper Nebbia Arcobaleno. No one was really sure of the Mist Arcobaleno's gender, as they were always seen wearing a dark, hooded cloak that only showed their lower face. Most referred to Mammon as female, but one could never know, especially with the Arcobaleno, and the Nebbia one at that.

Hana Kurokawa Sasagawa was not a head maid of the Nuvola for no reason. She knew the power balance of Italy very well, and her father had educated her on the works of Machiavelli. She knew the minds of rulers. She knew many things. But she did not know how to escape interrogation by Fran Spade, if it was humanly possible.

"Mou. So?" Hana bit her lower lip nervously. "Well, is it about the black birdie's artist problem again?"

"Stop abusing your powers, Fran," Chrome chided softly, shuffling quietly into the room. "Hana, Kumo-san is home." Hana looked at the noblewoman gratefully.

"Chrome-nee, stop using Asian honorifics," Fran hummed, leaping up from the couch and leaving.

The woman let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Lady Chrome." Her relief was short-lived, however, when there was a sound of crashing from the front hall. With worried expressions, the women dashed off, only to see Fran and Mukuro brandishing their weapons against Hibari. "I saw this coming…"

"Kufufu~ Happy to see me, birdie?" Mukuro mocked.

A vein throbbed on Hibari's forehead. "Silence, pineapple," he snarled, rushing forward to exchange blows with the other. Sounds of metal clashing resounded in the hall and a bored Fran stood off to the side, leaning on his scythe. "Frog-apple. The idiot-bronco and his brother are coming to pay a visit soon as well," Hibari warned abruptly, causing him to fall over.

"Okay, thanks, bye." With that, he poofed away somewhere unknown, probably to his 'father's' side.

Mukuro and Hibari's fight continued, sending chunks of marble stone flying everywhere. Destruction of the front hall continued as Chrome, Hana, and the other innocent staff members took refuge in a nearby hallway. Hana was on the verge of screaming when her husband burst into the doorway with an "IT'S EXTREMELY BAD TO FIGHT IN THE FRONT HALLWAY, YOU TWO! THAT'S EXTREMELY WHY I JUST FIXED UP THE TRAINING ROOMS!" The fighting ceased as both nobles were picked up by the collar and dragged to the fighting room by Ryohei Sasagawa.

When all three were out of sight, Hana and Chrome shook their heads in resignation. "Come on, ladies; don't just stand there. It's time to clean up this mess. Again."

* * *

It was two o'clock when Hibari and Mukuro finally laid down their weapons, leaving the room with satisfaction from getting the opportunity to beat up the other. The cloud immediately made a beeline for his father's study, observing that Alaude was still not home. Coming in front of the impressive oak doors, he knocked respectfully before entering. Riccio looked up from his paperwork at Hibari's entry. "What is it?" he asked brusquely.

Hibari smirked before answering. "I found an artist to undertake the trial." This prompted Riccio to raise an eyebrow curiously. "I will have persuaded him to assist me by the end of the week. Good day, Father."

Riccio watched his son leave impassively. He did not know when to give up, really. With a sigh, Riccio continued his paperwork. _If there really is an artist ready to receive patronage from us,_ he thought grimly, _I'll do my paperwork every day._

After leaving his father's study, Hibari passed by Hana. "You may leave now," he smirked. Hana was never so glad to get home, hoping that Tsuna was okay.

The woman nearly facefaulted when she arrived in front of her modest home in the outskirts of Florence. There, on a _Nuvola's _shoulder, he was napping like no care in the world. "M-Master Alaude! I apologize for my brother-in-law's behavior!" she cried, coming out of her stupor.

Alaude blinked at her impassively. "Where… this is your home?" he asked slowly. Hana nodded and moved to wake up Tsuna, who had started to fall of Alaude's shoulder. However, her boss shot her a look and gently- _gently_- shook Tsuna awake. "Tsunayoshi, wake up. She's here."

Tsuna stirred groggily, yawning cutely before stretching up, back making popping noises. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he visibly brightened at the sight of Hana. "Hi, Hana!" he greeted cheerfully. "I just came here today! You got our letter, right?"

The maid nodded, stepping to unlock her house after fishing out a sizeable key ring from her pockets. Opening the door, she eyed Alaude cautiously, the handcuffs with alarm. She had a strong feeling that she did not want to know what had happened in her absence. "I was- I'm sorry, Tsuna, my boss didn't let me go until a little while ago. Your brother will be home sometime soon." Something unrecognizable flashed through Alaude's eyes. "Have you been waiting long? And…" Here, she cleared her throat nervously. "Why are you and Master Alaude handcuffed to each other?"

Tsuna blinked innocently several times before he looked at his left hand, the chains clinking. He laughed nervously. "O-o-oh!... uhh... an… accident…? But it's okay, Hana; I don't mind waiting!" he said hurriedly. "What's your job, anyway?"

She pointed a finger at Alaude. "I'm head maid in Nuvola Purple Estate. That man is one of my bosses." Here, she scowled. For her brother-in-law to have attracted the attention of such dangerous people was a bad omen. "Come on in. He lives on the second floor." Her house was by no means shabby. It was small and cozy, but had the luxury of having two floors. Ryohei had built it himself. Once she heard the chains again, she nearly facepalmed. "M-Master Alaude. Tsuna. I'll take in your stuff**.**" It wasn't because of the state of disarray that her home was in that she didn't want him to enter. It was simply because to invite a noble into the house of someone of lower class was considered a grave insult.

The blond grunted and picked up one of Tsuna's knapsacks, walking past Hana and dragging Tsuna in with him. "Cut the formality, Sasagawa. I'll help him move in, and by that time my men should be here with the keys to the handcuffs. Come in, Tsunayoshi." The bewildered brunet managed to snatch a second knapsack before being nearly dragged upstairs with the handcuffs.

Hana stood frozen by the door, stunned by the expression Alaude had addressed Tsuna with. That was… "Is this the infamous Nuvola weak spot for small, cute things?" she whispered. The higher staff members were very well aware that virtually all Nuvola had that weak spot. It was a notorious fact, but somehow was humanizing that such frightening people were fond of such a thing. But still, for it to manifest in such a way…

Hana shook her head resignedly, catching eye of the drawing on the easel that was left outside, and she had to force herself not to go slack-jawed at the picture of Master Fong and Hibari. He had pinned down their individual expressions perfectly, and if Hana didn't know better, then she would have thought that they were looking at her from the paper. He had advanced so much as an artist! Where her little friend that doodled stick figures in the dirt gone? With a small smile, she headed to the kitchen to cook dinner while Tsuna bounced down, dragging Alaude to pick up the last of his things.

Soon, a knock resounded on the front door, prompting Hana to go and open it. A policeman stood there, looking around curiously. He held an iron key ring. "Where's Master Alaude?" he asked. "He ordered me to return here with his handcuffs keys."

Before she could so much as blink, a hand shot out from behind her, snatching the keys. There were a few clicks, and a moment later, three pairs of handcuffs clinked to the ground. A sigh of relief was heard as Tsuna rubbed his wrist. "Thank you," Alaude said gruffly. "Now, return to your patrol. Tell no one of this."

The three watched as the man bowed and walked off respectfully. When he disappeared, Hana regarded the two curiously. "Good day, Master Alaude," she said with finality.

He nodded to her and turned to Tsuna, who was looking slightly disappointed. "Good day… Tsuna," he said after a moment of deliberation. "I should hope to hear of your fame someday, preferably soon." With that, he hesitantly patted Tsuna's hair, like one would pet a pet. Hana's eye twitched as Alaude took off. Seriously; Tsuna needed to hit puberty soon. He looked so childish that- She shook her head again.

"So, while we wait for Ryohei to come home, mind telling me how you got handcuffed to my boss?" she asked dryly.

* * *

On sighting one of two Nebbia that he could actually tolerate the presence of, Hibari threw a tonfa at Fran's head, causing him to tilt his head to the side to dodge. "Oh. Hello, Cloud-Man," he greeted rudely. "Why are you so happy on this fine day? Did you kill someone or something?"

Hibari eyed him carefully. If he played his cards right, then he would be free from marriage. "What would I have to do to get you to do something for me?" he asked carefully.

Fran raised an eyebrow, weighing his options. Helping Hibari would kill his boredom and annoy his Nappo-brother. "I don't see why not. But what is it?"

"Help me… ah… _persuade _someone to help me," he said vaguely.

He received a deadpan look. "Verbally or violently?" he asked matter-of-factly. At his skeptical expression, he held up his hands, saying, "Okay, okay; verbal it is. Who, what, when, where?" he rattled off.

"An artist. Sometime this week. Head maid Hana's home. Understood?"

"You so owe me a favor for this, Cloud-Man."

"I don't care, frog herbivore. Do as I ask, and I'll do whatever favor you need," he said impatiently, drawing out his other tonfa.

Fran started wondering whether agreeing to help him was a good idea or not. Oh well. Too late. At least now he had figured out a way to kill his boredom.

* * *

**Exile: Credit goes to Lunakatsuma for typing this. We wrote it by hand, and then recorded it verbally, then sent it to her to type up... because we're actually very slow typists.**

**Review? And please don't expect the next chapter anytime soon... in a month, at least.**

***Is capable of doing 200 words = 1 review for this fic***


	2. Vongola - Varia

**Exile: Hallo! Here's your chapter 2! Sorry for the long wait, but in exchange... you get a 10377 word chapter. **

**Thank you to Lunakatsuma for being our typist!**

**KHR belongs to Amano.**

**Warning: crack pairing detected in this chapter :x**

* * *

****Second Sketch: Vongola - Varia

"Oi! Little bro! It's time to wake up to the EXTREME!"

Tsuna jolted awake from his sleeping mat in alarm, looking at the window to only get a glimpse of the cloudy sky outside. He was usually able to wake up early on his own (a side effect of farm life) but he always got messed up when the sun wasn't shining. Luckily though, his older brother was always loud enough to substitute for a crowing rooster.

"Little bro, do you hear me to the EXTREME!? Hana's already up and made an EXTREME breakfast for us!"

Tsuna staggered up, getting out of his room after slipping on some indoor shoes. Tumbling down the staircase (staircases seemed to hold a grudge against him), he yelped, "Itai!"

From the kitchen, Hana heard him and sighed. "He's so clumsy and feminine, sometimes I doubt his masculinity," she muttered as Tsuna staggered into the main room. The artist gave her a wide-eyed look. "It's nothing; nothing at all."

The three sat down at the table, Ryohei saying a quick prayer of thanks before he began eating. It was Hana who broke the silence first. "So, what do you plan on doing this week, Tsuna? Just going to wander around?"

Tsuna shook his head promptly, swallowing. "I'm probably going to find some places to draw. Maybe I can draw some of the more famous landmarks and sell them as souvenirs to passerbys."

"You don't intend to get any commissions from any noble or rich houses?" Tsuna thought about it for a moment, and once again shook his head. "Why?"

He paused. "Uhh. . . I think I should start small and become acquainted with people first."

Ryohei nodded approvingly. "That's an EXTREMELY good idea! Maybe you should take some of Hana's EXTREMELY good lunch with you!" He was whacked on the head by his wife at this line.

"Don't be so loud, Ryohei," she chided, turning to Tsuna. "You should try going to-"

"I already know where I'm headed for," Tsuna cut in. "I'm going to be near Cathedral San Maria del Fiore today. I've always wanted to see Brunelleschi's Dome." Here he also thought about the piece of paper in his trouser pocket, something that he really couldn't let anyone see.

"I was just going to suggest that," Hana muttered, "The head priest there is the travelling boxer who taught Ryohei, remember him?"

The brunet laughed nervously. "Yeah. I was planning on seeing how he was doing." He glanced at the door. "By the way, why does your door have a lock and key instead of a standard latch?" A lock and key door was considered a privilege, something a commoner wasn't supposed to have.

"Master Alaude insisted that all servants procure a lock and key door as to lower the crime rate of robbery and theft more. Plus, we got a discount when we bought them under his name, so why not?" she explained. Here, Ryohei took one last bite of his breakfast, stood up with an "_Extreme!_" thanks, and Hana gathered up the dishes and took them to the cleaning basin to rinse and wipe them off later.

"We'll be off now," Hana announced. "Do me a favor and don't lock the door. Understood?"

"Understood?" he said with a curious tone. The door slammed shut with a conversation about a 'Kangaryuu' audible from where he sat. When their voices faded from hearing, Tsuna heaved a sigh of relief and proceeded to unfold a piece of parchment. It was a letter from one of his childhood friends and a relative, one Cousin Giotto. Tsuna had constantly looked up to Cousin Giotto, who was also a famous painter these days. One of the other reasons why Tsuna had come to Florence was that he had gotten a letter from Giotto. _'Hello, Tsunayoshi,' _it read.

'_Hello, Tsunayoshi. I hope this letter finds you well. I do realize that the last time we saw each other was at Iemitsu's funeral- for that I apologize. How are you, and how is your family? Pray give my greetings to Nana and Kyoko and Ryohei. I hope that all of you are well._

_But enough with all the formalities. I am writing to you in the dead of night, under candlelight. Please do not let anyone see this letter, Tsuna. The reasons will be explained shortly. You have heard of the Vongola, no? _

_I am the head of the Vongola, and I go under the name Giotto Vongola now. If you do not know of what I am talking about, well, Vongola is a vigilante group I have formed with a couple of friends. When I was still relatively unknown as an artist, I often took late walks in Venice. I later moved to Palermo. But what I observed was the same; the desecration of the commoners' rights by the fraudulent rich and the corrupted government. I managed to become acquainted with a man named- _(Here, the letter was a mess of scribbles and cross-outs, as if Giotto and someone else had fought for the quill.) _-who goes by G. He agrees with my sentiments, and we have decided that the best way to protect commoners and the public good from the whims of the rich of the upper class would be to create a vigilante group. Actually, it was my friend Cozarto who suggested it as a solution, but I digress from the real reason for this letter. _

_Vongola now is relatively infamous in the Venice area; that's where we began our work. But I am now writing to you, my dear cousin, to ask if you would like to join us. Not necessarily as a fighter, but more like an advisor. If you are willing to join us, come to Florence. G, Cozarto, and I, as well as the rest of the main Vongola, are transferring over to Florence for safety. In Venice, we ticked off one too many influential people, it seems. But they still haven't connected me to my painting life._

_Anyway, at the Cathedral San Maria del Fiore, there is a priest by the name of Knuckle. He is one of my friends. Go to him, and tell him who you are. He will make contact with me so we can meet up. My offer is open for four months. If you do not wish to take the position, simply do not come. But even if you wish to decline, I would like to see my younger cousin again, even for just a simple chat. Florence is a lovely place, after all._

_ –Giotto'_

After rereading it once again, Tsuna stood up from the table, going back up the rickety staircase to his room in order to fetch his smaller drawing pad and his charcoal box. He was going to San Maria del Fiore, like he told Hana and Ryohei, but not just for the sights and art. It wasn't really an ulterior motive.

Tsuna was just going to meet his cousin while he was at it, and maybe get some art tips and most definitely agree to help this 'Vongola'. He departed the house, mindful not to lock the door like Hana said. (He could have sworn_ something _woke up as he left the house, if the thumping was any indication, but he was too scared to double-check.)

And thus he set of for the Cathedral, items and letter in hand. After wandering into an alley three times and making a U-turn twice, Tsuna was forced to ask for directions. Most people simply pointed at the great Dome, but it didn't help that the streets twisted and turned, often making him go in the direction opposite the Dome. With a sigh, Tsuna found himself at the same street alley for the fourth time. Tossing his hands up in the air, he noted the time from the nine tolls of the bells, looking with despair. Turning on his heel, Tsuna had the misfortune of colliding with someone. "Oof!" he cried, falling backwards. "I'm sorry!"

His apology was met by an androgynous voice's reply of, "Ot. Strangers should look where they're going." A hand was held out, helping Tsuna up.

"I'm sorry- I'm sort of lost right now!" Tsuna cried. Seeing the other's curious look, he explained, "I'm new to Florence. I'm trying to go to San Maria del Fiore, but I keep getting lost!"

The person regarded him with blank eyes that held a glimmer of interest. He was a boy, judging from the lack of, um, chest area, and the trousers with the plain, formally white shirt they wore. The eyes and hair were a shocking shade of sea-foam green, and the boy was barefooted. _He must be a street orphan, _Tsuna realized sadly. Poverty was no laughing matter.

"My name is Flan. Yours?" the boy asked suddenly, and the brunet started.

"Oh! Uh, I'm Tsunayoshi Sawada. Tsuna for short." After a pause, "Why 'Flan'?"

"Flan was the first dessert I ever ate," the boy explained nonchalantly. Hesitantly, "Do you want help getting to the Cathedral? I could guide you there. I know these streets well." Seeing Tsuna's obvious indecision, 'Flan' hastily added, "I don't mean any harm. But you look lost, and I know that Sniver's gang has shifted to hereabouts." Tsuna raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Sniver's a guy that runs a gang of pickpockets."

"Thank you, Flan," Tsunayoshi gave the street child a soft smile, "I'll pay you when we get there, if you can guide me."

Flan's emotionless expression brightened up at the mention of payment. With his usual monotone voice, "Then follow me this way, please," he set off, the artist following close behind. Tsuna caught up quickly, matching Flan's paced walk next to him. They moved in relative silence, the city sounds permeating the air and the talk of nearby people, chattering so incessantly. However, Tsuna's curiosity seemed to have gotten the better of his tongue.

"Um, Flan. Do you not have any parents?" he asked delicately, still walking.

Flan shrugged. "I don't know them. Grew up on the streets, never really entered any gangs. I had a buddy, but somebody picked him up one day and I lived on." Evidently, Flan wasn't one to hold grudges against his parents for abandoning him or dying. Changing the subject, "Why are you going to the Cathedral at this time of day? There's no Mass at this time."

Tsuna smiled lightly. "I'm visiting one of the priests there to say hello. Also, I'm an artist. I was hoping to sell charcoal sketches of the Cathedral for some money." Then, as an afterthought, "You know, may I sketch you, Flan?"

Flan, if he had been drinking something, would have done a spit-take, but instead, he settled for pointing a finger at himself and continuing on. "Me? Why?" he questioned.

Tsuna laughed nervously. "Well, truth to be told, I don't have much money," he confessed, "Also, your looks are unique, and that's why I'd much rather sketch you."

Flan blinked several times and shrugged. "I'm flattered that you think of me that way. I wouldn't mind if you pay me with a sketch," he said in a bland tone. "By the way, we're almost there," he announced. The duo turned another corner, and in their path lay the grand doors of San Maria del Fiore. "Here we are."

"Thank you very much, Flan!" Tsuna thanked gratefully.

Flan shrugged. "If you're looking for a priest, the priests' quarters are in that building." Flan pointed. "Next to the church. Who are you looking for?"

As he spoke, they drew nearer to the priests' quarters. Tsuna thought for a moment before stepping up to the door, Flan waiting by the gates. Knocking on the door, he gulped as it was opened by a rather matronly-looking woman. "Who are you looking for, child?" she asked gently. "This is a priests' house of rest."

Finding his voice, "I'm looking for Father Knuckle, madam. He's a family friend."

The woman regarded him for a moment before stepping backwards and calling for Father Knuckle. Presently, a man dressed in priest's garb appeared, clutching a Rosary and Bible. His black eyes landed on Tsuna, whose eardrums were nearly blown out by the shout of joy from the priest. "You're Tsunayoshi, right!? Giotto has been hoping to hear from you to the ULTIMATE!" he exclaimed. The housekeeper departed, leaving them, probably to save her ears. "So why are you here!? And you look like your cousin to the ULTIMATE!"

Tsuna couldn't help but grimace at the volume. "I was hoping to meet him today," he answered.

Knuckle nodded excitedly. "That's good! I'll be sure to let him know to the ULTIMATE!" With this, the boxer-turned-priest shook Tsuna's hand, leaving a piece of paper there. "Have a good day to the ULTIMATE!" And he was off.

With a grin, Tsuna walked from the house to Flan, who had been waiting by the gate. "Done here?" the green-haired boy asked. He nodded. "What next? You going to set-up-shop or something now?"

They both walked to a corner, far enough from the Holy Cathedral to not violate the Bible, and close enough to catch people going to see it. He propped up his easel and drawing pad, took out a charcoal box, Flan watching with mild interest. He gestured to Flan to sit on the stone wall as Tsuna unfolded a hinged stool from his pack as well and sat down to begin sketching Flan. Using a heavy charcoal, he decided to draw the eyes first. Some said eyes created a window to the soul, but Flan's eyes reflected whoever was looking, not letting anyone in. Flan was an interesting person, he surmised.

When he finished the eyes and moved on to outline the face, a sudden joyous shout was heard with a terrified yelp. Tsuna's head jolted up to see a black-haired stranger holding Flan to him, smiling brightly as he rested his chin on Flan's shoulder. On the other hand, Flan's expression was as blank as usual, but now there was a flicker of. . . irritation in his expression. "Dinner! Why are you out here wandering the streets instead of being with your family? Did Daemon finally kick you out? Come live with me, then!"

This string of statements caused a nerve on Flan's forehead to twitch, and Tsuna wasn't surprised when Flan grabbed the stranger's arms and kicked backwards, flipping the handsome stranger into the cobblestones. There was a definite killing intent around the boy now. "I apologize for this imbecile, Tsu-na-san," Flan scowled, glaring at the stranger with obvious wishes to gut the man.

Tsuna laughed nervously, gesturing to Flan to sit down again. The boy took a moment to drag the stranger out of the sidewalk so he wouldn't be stepped on. Resuming his previous lines, Tsuna asked, "Who is that guy?"

Flan scowled and kicked the man. "Alato Stallone Chiavarone, and a bigger womanizing flirt you would be hard pressed to find," Flan replied blandly.

The artist raised an eyebrow. ". . .but aren't you a boy?" he choked. The other nodded. "Then. . . _why_? And how do you know him?"

"Likes messing with me," was the terse explanation, "and he and I are acquaintances."

Tsuna now moved to drawing the boy's hands, which were surprising clean and white for a street orphan. There was an indignant, muffled complaint from the formerly unconscious man as he sat up rubbing his head, looking at Flan unhappily, then shot Tsuna a curious look.

"Dinner, why are you calling me only an acquaintance?" he complained, attempting to hug Flan again, but only to be punched in the shoulder. Miffed, Stallone turned his eye on Tsuna. "Now who is this?"

Flan rolled his eyes and threw a piece of rock at him. "That's Tsuna. Don't bug him; he's drawing right now."

Tsuna nodded politely at the person who was most obviously a nobleman if the fine clothes and handsome looks were any indicator. _But, if Flan is a street child, how come he seems to know this man so well?_ Tsuna wondered, beginning to shade his drawing of Flan as he blocked out their odd conversation. _And why 'Dinner'?_

"Chiavarone, shut up and quit calling me 'Dinner'; it's disturbing."

"Because you _are _my Dinner!" he replied, making Flan facepalm. "And why are you out here on the streets instead of with Daemelo-"

He was rudely shut up by Flan clapping his hands over his mouth. However, Flan yelped and moved his hands. "Uhn- you _licked _me!" he stated, causing Tsuna to look up and watch the amusing scene. Stallone was grinning, and Flan looking rather. . . perturbed at the very idea. Stallone licked his lips, causing some nearby women to faint at the sight. "Why _you-_"

"I knew you tasted good, Frannie," the nobleman teased and dodging the blade of a scythe that had quite literally appeared out of nowhere. The people who had been crowding around to see Tsuna draw scattered away in shock as the artist started sketching the scene with quick, rapid strokes. The mysterious Flan holding an odd scythe against a Chiavarone nobleman that was defending with a bullwhip. It seemed like an even match and made a fairly good drawing.

The screams grew louder, however, when a blond-haired person stepped in, hands armed with silver throwing knives and a tiara atop his head. "Ushishishi~ Hello, froggie. Why are you dressed like that near the stupid stallion?" he asked.

If possible, Flan's face paled more as he backed up until he was right next to Tsuna, who took the opportunity to tap the street-child-that-he-doubted-was-a-street-child's shoulder, making him start. A roll of paper traded hands as Tsuna smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Flan," he said to 'Flan', who was better known to the public as 'Fran Spade' (not that Tsuna knew that), blinked and nodded, vanishing into the crowd.

Now, the funny thing was that even with the disappearance of the green-haired boy, the blond and Stallone had continued dueling, bullwhip against throwing knives. "Ushishishi~ The froggie left, and the prince will cut up the stallion now!"

"Dinner only left because your disgusting royal face appeared," Stallone sneered as he dodged several knives. Tsuna's eyes widened and he leapt from his stool to knock a bystander from the path of more than a few thrown knives, narrowly dodging them by mere centimeters. Tsuna rolled off the person and went back to save his drawing supplies.

When he managed to escape the fray once again, he worriedly glanced over to the bystander, who was now sitting up and rubbing his silver-haired head. "Are you okay, sir?"

The man looked at him with confusion. "Why did you save me?" he asked with bewilderment.

Tsuna looked at him like it was obvious. "Life is precious, and you would have died. Stranger or not, I'd do the same for anyone."

The man blinked, and Tsuna could have sworn _sparkles _appeared in the unknown man's eyes, who suddenly knelt in front of Tsuna. "Tenth! In return for saving my life, I will follow you forever!" he declared. "I, Hayato Gokudera, will do anything you wish for, Tenth!" Then, he quickly added, "What's your name, Tenth?"

Tsuna's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "I'm- umm- Tsunayoshi Sawada. . .you know, you don't have to go that far. . . and why are you calling me 'Tenth'!? This is the first time I've ever seen you!"

"Because you saved me from ten knives and you are the tenth person to ever save me but the first that didn't do it for money!" he exclaimed.

Tsuna eyed him carefully, totally unsure of what was going on. Scratching the back of his head, the artist pointed at the still-fighting men. "Umm, why are those two guys fighting? And who are they? Who are you?" he questioned uncertainly.

"I am Hayato Gokudera of the Tempesta Family, Tenth! The freaky knife guy is my cousin, Belphegor. He's an insane guy that believes he's a prince. The other one is Alato Stallone Chiavarone, the eldest heir of the Chiavarone Family," he clarified. "And the reason they were fighting was because Fran Spade, the adopted child of Daemon Spade of the Nebbia Family, doesn't take either of them seriously, so they fight each other for him. Rivals, you see."

Tsuna's jaw dropped. "W-wait! You're a noble!? Then you shouldn't be hanging around me; I'm just a-"

A fearsome glare silenced him. "Tenth is Tenth. Commoner or noble," Gokudera insisted staunchly. That made Tsuna give up on convincing the noble that he didn't need to stay around Tsuna.

"Okay then," he sighed, making Gokudera's eyes sparkle. "Do as you will. But I'd rather you be my friend than a follower."

Gokudera looked at him in disbelief, then nodded, a true smile spreading across his face, something that he hadn't done for weeks. _Maybe I found the right person this time, _he thought gladly.

Suddenly, the church's bells rang eleven times, indicating the time. The Tenth's eyes widened, and he dropped a piece of paper that had been in his trouser pocket. "Mr. Gokudera, do you know the way to Ristorante del Sequenza?" he asked worriedly. "Is it nearby here? I need to meet someone there."

Gokudera raised an eyebrow curiously, stepping back and examining Tsuna. His jaw dropped. "You're Tsunayoshi!? Signore Giotto's younger cousin!?"

The brunet's eyes widened visibly. "You know big brother Giotto?" he inquired lightly. _So Giotto is really popular, huh, _he mused.

Gokudera saluted, bowing. "I was on my way there when you saved me, Tenth! I can lead you there if you'd like, Tenth!" Jabbing an elbow at the still fighting Stallone and Belphegor, "Those two will eventually snap out of it, Tenth. Pay them no mind!"

Tsuna nodded weakly, picking up his items and eyeing the fighters one last time. "Please lead the way, Signore Gokudera."

The man faltered. "Tenth, you don't need to put Signore in front of my name. Call me Hayato," he requested.

The brunet thought a moment. "Umm, okay, Hayato," he said awkwardly.

The Tempesta brightened up visibly, grabbing Tsuna's knapsack to carry it for him. Setting off, he wore a huge grin as he guided the Tenth. He couldn't wait to see his idiot brother's expression when he lost the bet that the Tenth would be scared of him! Ha!

What was on Tsuna's mind right now, though, was, _Flan! He's not the Fran Spade that Hayato mentioned! What in the world!? _Off in Nuvola mansion, Fran sneezed in the middle of Chiavarone-proofing his room.

Giotto drummed his fingers at the table he had reserved at the Ristorante del Sequenza, anxious for the bells to toll twelve of the clock, which was when his dear cousin was supposed to meet up with him. On his right was his right-hand man, a fellow that went by G and would kill anyone that dared reveal his full name, even if said person was Giotto. To the blond's left was a man dressed in an extremely out-of-place garb of a white hakama, and a tall, white, cone-shaped hat. With Giotto's striking appearance of a blond, spiky mane and eyes sky blue, and G's detailed flame tattoo and light-red hair, the three had a devastating effect on all females in the vicinity, who were crowding around the restaurant's windows to gaze at the exceptionally beautiful men. The restaurant suddenly received a sharp influx of customers, mostly the trio's new fangirls. The good thing was that none of them were brave enough to do anything more than stare longingly.

G ran his hand through his hair uneasily. The stares were so unnerving, _Dios! _"Giotto, where is your cousin?" he snarled. "Are you sure he's coming today?"

Giotto placed his hand placating on G's arm. "G, calm yourself. Tsunayoshi always keeps his word, and Knuckle described him as one that fits the appearance of my cousin perfectly," he stated calmly. G snorted, but stopped complaining, nonetheless.

"Maa, Giotto, G, I think I could've sworn I saw your dobblegengers outside the shop just now!" Asari Ugetsu commented. The bell to the Ristorante del Sequenza's door jingled, signaling the entry of new people, and G had to whack Giotto's head _hard_ to stop him from causing a scene from pouncing on the newcomer. His similarity to Giotto was unmistakable.

Next to him was G's younger brother. Upon sight of each other, they scowled. "Asari, the word is 'doppelganger', not 'dobblegenger', and my little brother is far from me," G corrected.

Taking advantage of G's momentary distraction, Giotto leapt from the table, tackling Tsuna to the ground and startling all of the customers. "Tsunayoshi, my dear cousin, it's so nice to see you again!" he cried happily. Tsuna was unable to formulate a proper response, the flying glomp having knocked his breath out.

Suddenly, Gokudera pulled Giotto off, snapping, "Can't you see the Tenth can't breathe?" he snapped.

The blond stood up, looking sheepishly at the brunet that was trying to recover his breath. G raised an eyebrow at his brother's attitude. Looking up, Tsuna finally managed to greet his cousin properly. "Hello, Giotto! How are you?"

The effect was instantaneous as Giotto lost control again and did a full-body hug on Tsuna, dragging him to the table that he had reserved. "This guy is G, and the other guy is Asari. Cozart should be coming soon, and he's bringing his stepbrother. How are you? When did you get here? Where are you staying? If you don't have anywhere permanent yet, then you can move in with me, you know!"

Tsuna laughed nervously as G once again pummeled Giotto's head with an unforgiving fist. "Don't talk like that, you idiot; you sound like a pedophile!" he snapped.

A new person's voice entered the conversation. "Giotto's being a pedophile to whom?" Tsuna turned around to see a fidgety red-head with brownish streaks in his hair with a similarly-looking teen cringing behind. Both had red eyes with a strange compass design in their irises. "Giotto, didn't you swear you wouldn't be a creeper when you saw your cousin?" the taller chided.

"I'm not being a creeper _or _a pedophile, G, Cozart!" the blond protested with a scandalized look. He moved his chair to sit next to Tsuna. "I haven't seen my beloved Tsuna for five years; I'm just being enthusiastic!"

"Seriously; you're his cousin. You're so "enthusiastic" that it's borderlining on creepy incest," G snarled.

Gokudera butted in crossly. "Can you guys stop arguing so we can order something to eat!?" As if on cue, Tsuna's stomach grumbled, making all eyes turn to him. "See!? The Tenth is hungry! What would you like to eat, Tenth?" At the last line, Gokudera's mood took a whiplash, going from grumpy to adoring- no, practically worshipful. Glancing at his right-hand man and best friend, Giotto had to refrain from laughing at the disturbed look on G's face. Hayato had taken quite a liking to Tsunayoshi, it seemed.

Several waiters came to take their orders. Tsuna observed how Giotto and everyone seemed to place orders with practiced ease. Seeing Tsuna's slightly lost expression, Giotto ordered a dish of Tuscan-style stew for him. The food came rather quickly, as if the kitchens had been waiting for them to calm down, and the group dined in silence as the bells tolled twelve of the clock.

Finally, Tsuna set his utensils down, and Giotto looked at him expectantly. "So, cousin, why have you decided to call on me?" the blond inquired in a business-like voice.

Tsuna's eyes flickered around the room warily. When he had assured himself that no one was listening, he quietly replied, "I want to take up your offer to be your. . . advisor." Everyone's eyes widened. "I just think that what you say is true. Some of the non-Elemental ruling families are corrupt. . . while Kyoko and I were journeying here, we just barely escaped the massacre in Rolozola. It was. . . horrible. Outright civil war, and the Pulci Family had mercenaries killing people." Here he let out a shuddering sigh. "Apparently, it was so bad that the Nebbia Family had to send their own family members to deal with the Pulci."

"The Elemental Families are good, it's the minor ones that are a pain," G grunted suddenly. "Anyway, are you sure?"

Tsuna nodded resolutely. "How have you been, cousin?" he asked lightly. "In regards to painting and such?"

Giotto and Asari exchanged uncertain glances. Then the blond coughed nervously. "I, umm, I. . . I haven't been painting for nearly a year now." Hurriedly, he added, "I haven't had enough time."

There was an awkward silence. Cozart coughed abruptly. "Change of subject, anyone?" They nodded. "Tsuna, this is Enma Shimon, my stepbrother. He's nineteen." Enma looked at Tsuna shyly, nodding. "I hope you two get along now!"

Suddenly, the door to the Ristorante del Sequenza burst open, and several women hardly contained their delighted squeals as another drool-worthy man strode over to join the group. Tsuna recognized him right away as Alato, who halted at the table, looking rather miffed. "Sorry for being late, Giotto," he apologized. "Something came-"

Everyone in the Vongola table gave a collective sigh. "You bastard. We all know that the only reason you're late is because you ran into your precious 'Dinner'," G scolded, holding his face in his hands. "You're twenty-eight and the kid is _twenty_ for heaven's sake!" Stallone seemed to wilt. Then G delivered the finishing blow. "What's more, that's a _boy_, and the age count makes you a _pedophile_!" The man slumped into an empty chair lifelessly.

Giotto winced. "About that, Stallone. . . G's right. Just because you see that person and chase him doesn't mean you should have delayed in coming here. Besides, if you insist on bugging the poor boy, I may not be able to recruit any Nebbia when the time comes. And if you also decide to continue and make a fuss in _Florence_, I could probably say goodbye to any hopes of getting the Nuvola on our side." He let out a long breath. "Please, Alato." Changing gears, "Now, this is my cousin, Tsuna."

Stallone was too much of a corpse to reply. Gokudera rolled his eyes. "Che. That guy will never grow up. He's been fighting with that stupid cousin of ours for. . . what? A near half-hour now?" Giotto shot him a surprised look. "Tenth pushed me out of the way of their fight!" he expounded. All eyes turned to Alato disappointedly. You could almost hear their skepticism at his stupidity, but sadly, they had already gotten used to it.

"So, Tsunayoshi, how is thy art faring?" Giotto inquired. "Improved any? Can I see some of your drawings?"

The younger artist grinned from ear to ear. "I've taken an interest in Dad's old technique of charcoal sketching. I still touch the paintbrush, of course." In realization, he rummaged around his knapsack for his drawing pad. "I have one of my sketch pads here. Look!"

The pad of paper traded hands, falling open on one of Tsuna's oldest sketches, his farm in Tuscany. There was the cottage with the door open and the yellow tivvy that had often stopped the mice lazing on the fence. Giotto turned the page, glimpsing a group sketch of Kyoko and Nana sitting together on the only bed in the house. Another flip of the page and it was their farm's mare browsing under a tree. Giotto turned the page more rapidly. The village square. Kyoko and a cat. Nana cooking dinner. The collection of hands in different positions. Practice drawing eyes. Another scene from the village.

"Slow down. Turn back the page real fast?" Cozart requested, leaning over Giotto's chair to see the pictures too.

He complied and raised an eyebrow at the drawing of a pair of twins, male and female, who were looking at each other and laughing. The page was titled 'Rilliane and Allen'. Cozart whistled, recognizing the two for who they were but staying silent.

Giotto gently raised an eyebrow and moved on. Then he came to a page with a very familiar face. It was Daemon Spade and some courtiers speaking with the village headsman. "You've seen Daemon Spade?" Giotto inquired. "What would you attest to his character?"

G shot him a sharp look as Tsuna pondered a moment. "Giotto, I already told you what I think about that deceptive, watermelon-headed piece of a-" Giotto raised a hand to cut him off, his expression radiating waves of disapproval. "Fine," G grunted.

Giotto's eyes slid to Tsuna. "Uhh. . . he's a fair person, but if you manage to irk him. . . no handicaps are given. He's one of the bored nobles, but I hear his boredom extents to merely pulling elaborate tricks on the people. . ." Then he quickly added, "Why do you ask, cousin?"

Giotto looked up from the flipping pages and Tsuna saw a glint of approval. "For Vongola's sake, my advisor," Giotto responded lightly, closing the sketchbook and handed it back to Tsuna. "At this rate, we may end up being competitors," he joked, much to everyone's horror.

Time sprinted by on Mercury's shoes. The bell tolled the hour as a single, mournful cling rang across Florence. Giotto frowned disappointedly. "It is time for us to depart, cousin." The whole group stood up and handshakes and hugs were passed around. "Farewell, and I'll drop by Ryohei's and pay a visit sometime!"

Gokudera looked like a kicked puppy as he bowed in front of a surprised Tsuna. "Tenth! I would walk with you to your house, but I have to go with my foolish brother, so forgive me, Tenth!" G scowled and whacked Gokudera's with the back of his hand, eliciting a string of curses from the silver-haired one.

"Who are you falling foolish, you little brat?" cue brotherly struggle.

With one last wave, Tsuna walked out of the restaurant, knapsack on his shoulder. However, he hadn't taken ten steps before a redhead tumbled out of the restaurant after him. "Ouch. . ." Enma rubbed his back in pain. Not being one to not help people out, Tsuna kindly held a hand out to help Enma up. Brushing off his clothes, Enma nodded to him sheepishly. "Uh. . . i-is it okay if I tag along with you for a little bit?" he asked quietly.

The brunet blinked in curosity, wanting to know why. "Sure, why not?" he offered, continuing to walk. After a moment, Enma followed as well. "Why do you want to come with me, though?"

Enma scratched his head. "My brother said we should get to know each other," he confessed truthfully.

Before either could say a work, however, a familiar boy with green hair dashed to them, running right up to Tsuna. Despite the emotionless appearance, the painter could detect a trace of apprehension from Flan as he greeted Tsuna, "Ara? The painter from before?"

"Hello again, Flan!"

Enma's eyes grew as wide as saucers as he looked back in forth between the two, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Gesturing to him, "This is Enma Shimon, my cousin's friend's stepbrother. Enma, this is-" Here, Enma would have commented that he knew the other, if not for 'Flan's' sudden, eerie smile (the three point six degree upturn of Fran's lips counted as a smile) and the faint outline of a flame amplifying scythe barely visible behind him. "-Flan. He's a street orphan." _Technically_, this was true, Enma thought to himself. "And he helped guide me." Here, the Shimon nearly choked on his own saliva. "Are you okay?" Tsuna asked worriedly.

Enma cleared his throat and held out a hand to Flan, praying that he wouldn't get his hand cut off and replaced with an illusion. "Nice to meet you, Flan," he said weakly. _Please let me live. Please let me live. Please let me live I want to liiiiiiiiive!_

Flan simply eyed him and shook the hand. "Hallo, Mr. Shimon." Enma flinched as extra pressure was added as Flan squeezed his hand vindictively. "Nice to meet you too." Flan let go of the poor, abused hand like a dead fish.

"You look like you're running from someone. Are you okay, Flan?" The boy visibly grimaced. "Eh? Who's chasing you?"

_Ka-ching!_

Tsuna's question was answered by three silver knives embedding themselves in the cobblestones at Flan's feet. The boy's eyes grew wide as he grabbed Tsuna's and Enma's arms, dragging them away as an arrogant voice called out, "Ciao, Froggy! The Varia are here!" Around the corner appeared a blond man with his bangs covering half his face and another man with colorful and extravagant hair sticking up, a green patch of hair hanging down, and odd, black lenses covering his eyes. "Froggy~!"

Flan continued dragging Tsuna and Enma away from them, and they eventually got on their feet and began fleeing as well. "Che. Fake prince can't catch the top magician," he said loudly over his shoulder.

The blond and colorful man ran after them, but weren't easily gaining ground, as the crowd was now thickening. Panic in his eyes, Enma shouted, "Why are the _Varia_ after you, Flan!? Aren't you just a street orphan!?"

Flan gave him a look. "I'm the great top magician that made the fake prince and flashy peacock mad."

"That doesn't explain anything!" the redhead protested fearfully. Rounding a building, Enma's eyes grew wide as saucers again.

Oblivious, Tsuna muttered, "Those people are very unique. You think I can get a quick sketch of them?"

"Ushishishi~ Froggy, you're mine now~" the blond declared as he and the other colorful man came up behind him.

Around Flan's neck clamped a large hand. "Boss's caught you, Froggy! Now hurry up and come with us!"

Flan stared blankly at Xanxus's scarred face. "Trash. Quit running away, your fate is sealed."

The only response the Varia leader got was Flan insolently sticking his tongue and kneeing his stomach, forcing Xanxus to unhand him. "Artist, Red; run!"

Tsuna grabbed the shorter man and ran off with Enma. "Flan! Who are these people!?" Tsuna cried. "Why are they chasing you!? Did you anger them or something!?"

"They're the Varia, Vongola's independent assassination squad," Enma clarified between breaths. "The guy with scars is called Xanxus, the one with the ridiculously long, silver hair is Squalo, of the Pioggia, I think, the one with knives is Belphegor Tempesta, and the one with weird hair is Lussuria Sol, and _by the way_, they look ready to kill!" Enma tacked on the last bit sarcastically but wilted under Flan's dead stare.

"It's because they want me to join their gang, but I don't want to be three feet near that fake prince," Flan explained. "Ot. We should avoid buildings; long-haired commander-" Suddenly, Squalo dropped directly in front of them. "-likes dropping from buildings."

"..."

A sword was pointed at Tsuna's nose, who rapidly backed up. "HIIEEE! I didn't do anything!" he exclaimed, stepping in front of Enma and Flan. "I won't let you hurt my friends!"

The Pioggia noble glared down past Tsuna at Flan. "VOOOOIIIIIIIIII! YOU DAMN FROG! JOIN US OR ELSE THE SPINELESS PIECE OF TUNA WILL TASTE THE EDGE OF MY SWORD!"

Tsuna's eyes widened as he ducked the sword swing and spun on his hands, swinging his leg out to knock Squalo's feet from under him. Taken by surprise, the swordsman fell back, only barely recovering in time to dodge two fingers that had aimed for his diaphragm. Before the fight gave Squalo a chance to retaliate, the pole of scythe whacked to the back of his neck, causing the Varia Officer to collapse to the ground as stars figuratively appeared around his head.

"Che. No one can hurt the artist on my watch. Bye bye, Rapunzel~" And with that, Squalo was batted away with the scythe once more, and the trio made their escape. Tsuna raised an eyebrow at Flan. "What?"

"How in the world does that scythe appear out of thin air?" he inquired.

Flan shrugged, his green eyes looking ahead. "Trade secret. Can't really explain it." Suddenly, someone in the crowd screamed as several weapons flew at Flan's back, but he simply stood still as three knives, a spike, a barbed bullet, and a dagger embedded themselves in his back. Before either of the two could start panicking, Flan went, "Che. Oops. I clicked my tongue at the fake prince's and the gay lord's aiming. With that, he began pulling out the objects stuck in his back, making _'chk' _sounds as he snapped the knives in half. And he was still walking and _not being a bloody mess on the ground. _

Enma was starting to wonder whether the Nebbia were human and if Fran was- _gasp!_- sane. Tsuna was beginning to _really_ doubt Flan's backstory and wishing that he had gotten to sketch the scythe.

"Fran Spade Nebbia. If you don't stop running around the streets and causing havoc _this instant, _I will have Daemon confiscate your scythe and _I_ will dock your paycheck," a whispery, androgynous voice echoed throughout the city, ringing in the streets and causing everyone to freeze.

Everyone, that is, except Fran. Grabbing Tsuna and Enma by the collars, the green-haired boy hauled them into an alley, ignoring the redhead's protests. A wall appeared at the end of the alley, blocking the sight of the street. "I'm _Flan_. _Flan_, not that Fran Spade those insane nuts were after," he muttered rebelliously.

The whispering voice repeated the warning a second time. Enma just looked at 'Flan' and the wall incredulously. There was a sound of yelling from the Varia in the streets, but the group simply passed by the wall and Tsuna and Enma sighed with relief.

"How long will we have to hide in here?" Tsuna wondered aloud. Flan shrugged uncaringly. "Ehhhhh!? Then what should we do!?"

Flan paused a moment before voicing, "I want to hear about painter-san's life."

Tsuna cocked his head in confusion. "Uh. . . sure? What do you want to know?"

"How did you get into drawing? What's your family like?" Flan asked rapidly.

Tsuna leaned back on the brick wall of the cafe next to the alleyway. "I have a brother and a sister. My mum's rather ill these days and my father has been with the Lord for many years already. He was a good father to us and my mother was severely depressed with his death. My brother lives here in Florence and he works at the Nuvola Purple Estate as- apparently- a repairman. He lives with his wife, Hana, and she's one of the head maids there. My sister Kyoko is back on the farm, taking care of my mom."

"My condolences," Enma and Flan chorused. There was an awkward moment, but Tsuna waved it off.

"It's okay. He lived in a way that he would be remembered," the brunet said in recollection. Seeing their confused expressions, he added, "My father was Iemitsu Sawada." The widening of the Shimon's eyes was almost comical. Flan wore a partially surprised face. "He's the one who taught me the disciplines of the arts until he was struck ill and died. He taught me ever since he was seven."

Flan looked speculative. "I've heard of him as the man who invented the thing called charcoal sketching you do, but you are from the countryside, no? You mean to say such an acclaimed artist was poor?"

The nineteen-year-old nodded. "My father was a generous man, and the problem is that for many of his pieces he did for the Elemental Families, he would have them hold on to the money and pay him later. However, he was sadly forgetful. I hoped to collect his deeds from those families so I can pay for a way to cure my mother, but. . ." he trailed off.

"It'll be hard to convince them of your identity, now," Flan finished for him.

Tsuna gestured at the orphan. "Exactly. So first I want to prove it to them through my art so that when I try to get the money, they'll be more likely to believe me. Other than my father, my cousin Giotto, taught me some more art techniques, like how to sculpt and use that new thing called pastel."

Now it was Flan's turn to have his eyes nearly pop out. "So you're related to and have been taught by two famous artists, Painter-san?" he restated. When Tsuna nodded, the boy glanced him over with wonderment. "You have heard of the great Cielo family, right?"

He was given an odd look from the other two. "That's a strange subject to move to," Enma remarked.

Mind racing with the implications of what Flan had asked, "Come to think of it, there are those rumors about Giotto-san. . ."

"Cielo?" Tsuna replied quizzically. "I only know about the Elemental Families, really."

The boy snorted. "Technically, the Cielo _are _an Elemental Family. "'For it is the great sky, open and encompassing, that allows the weathers to exist.' You know that line, right? It was used by the historian Talbot in describing the Cielo."

"Wow, Flan," Tsuna cut in observantly. "You're pretty smart. Is it usual for street orphans to quote Talbot?"

He shrugged. "I doubt it. I'm a loner. But my former streetmate knew how to read and taught me by using the book _Tempo Famiglia_ by Talbot," he explained smoothly. "Anyway, the Cielo are mostly a myth used-"

"I've heard of them!" Enma interjected. "They were the only ones capable of keeping a hold on the other Elemental Families and were pretty much the undeclared monarchs of the entire Italian Peninsula! But apparently when Spain, France, Portugal, and Austria attempted to begin invading Italy, the Cielo brokered a deal with them and disappeared in exchange for peace because the other powers saw them as the only key to unifying Italy, and unification of all the city-states is a threat."

"So. . . the Cielo were basically the family that had the greatest potential of bringing Italy together, but was assumed as a threat and the members killed?" Tsuna guessed with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Flan and Enma shook their heads. "No, the family dispersed and most of them were taken as political prisoners by the invading countries. Others went into hiding," Enma corrected. "But some say that some of the Cielo went underground. There are tales of the great artistry of the Cielo, and the funny thing is, your father, Iemitsu Sawada, and your cousin Giotto. . . there are whispers that they have - had in your father's case - Cielo blood, which means that if your relations and your artistry are made public, people may begin assuming you to be one with Cielo blood. That's what Flan-san was trying to get at, right?"

"Oh!" he recalled suddenly. "The Chiavarone. Have you heard of Dino Chiavarone and- uh- you met Alato earlier, hahaha. . ." Enma couldn't help but notice at how Flan barely flinched at the name. "Well, you see, the Chiavarone are an offshoot of the Cielo."

"Really!?"

"Yeah, they have Sky blood. It's a public thing, except they don't have. . . they aren't exactly the best of leaders. They have good intentions, but. . . not to mention your name is similar to those of higher birth," Flan muttered.

"He does have a point," Enma said softly. "Your name is similar to those deemed of high birth."

"Tsunayoshi Sawada. . . it is, I believe, that someone of the Cielo had that name," Flan thought aloud.

Tsuna tilted his head to the side innocently. "Enma, Flan, what are you two implying, though?" he asked.

When the orphan opened his mouth to reply, several gunshots went off nearby, and a bullet whizzed by, barely missing Enma's head. "It's an illusion!" a harsh voice yelled.

The green-haired boy leapt to his feet, ushering the other two to the other side of the alley, where there was a narrow dead end. Flan clicked his tongue and grabbed a brick, pulling himself up. "Hurry and get up here," he ordered. "They won't get us on the roofs." As he said this, he continued climbing.

Tsuna started to get up before Enma, having experience climbing trees and rocks as a child, whereas the noble did not. Flan scrambled up the building nimbly with practiced ease, reaching the roof first and dropped the rope down to Tsuna. The artist crawled up and they dropped the end all the way down to Enma, who was struggling still.

"Shimon. Grab the rope and we'll pull you up," Flan hissed. "It's a ship rope. It's strong enough to hold you." The redhead held on to the rope for dear life, and Tsuna helped pull up the other. As they had been doing this, Flan sent out Mist Flames to strengthen the illusionary wall to hold off the Varia for precious moments.

When the Shimon was finally on the roof, the trio slumped against another building. They were in a little alcove in the wall and were surrounded with the walls of the buildings they had just clambered up. "To our right is a bookshop. The left is a studio," Flan explained with a wave of his hand. "We are currently on top of a part of the studio. It's like an alley on the rooftop. It's my hidey-hole. So, Tsuna-"

_Ch-brm!_

A large, great puff appeared in the place of Flan's illusionary wall. All three of them started, looking at that direction. When the smoke faded, it revealed a mysterious person with a black cloak and a hood covering half their face in front of the Varia. "VOOIIIII! GET OUT, YOU DAMN ALLEY RAT!" a man with long hair roared furiously.

"Dear Mary Mother of God!" Enma cried, falling backwards, finger pointing at the person who Tsuna recognized as one of the Nebbia, one that he had actually done a rare painting of once. "It's Mammon of the Nebbia! Flan, why did you bring us along-"

"Hey, I was just going to ask Painter-san to see if I could check out more of his sketches. It really isn't fair," Flan muttered.

"Fran Spade. Get down here before I am forced to drag you down," Mammon threatened, face turned to their hiding spot.

The green-haired boy facepalmed. "My name is Flan, and you have the wrong person," his voice rang out in answer.

The illusionist paused. If Fran was insisting that his name was 'Flan',that meant he was busy doing something undercover. Closing her eyes under her hood, she used her mind's eye to see the situation up there. Her younger nephew was with a teen she identified as a Shimon, and another teen she vaguely recalled as the boy who had painted her when she went to talk to some village head with some financial troubles. What she didn't get was _who_Fran was undercover for out of these two.

_Oh well. _Returning to her body, Mammon declared, "Well, you look an awful lot like the frog, so get back here." Flan took off running and illusionary hands grabbed the Shimon and the artist, depositing them in front of the Varia. "For aiding and defending that child, what should happen to you two?" she asked softly, making the Shimon boy shiver and the brunet clutch his belongings. She didn't really care much about the two, but they had Fran's interest, and as thus were a source of potential amusement.

"Please don't hurt Flan!" the poor one exclaimed, eyes darting around nervously.

_Hm, how selfless, _she thought. "I'm not going to hurt the kid you two were with. I'm just going to do an identity check on him. Mu, it's not like I'm like the rest of the barbarians in the Varia," Mammon replied. "But still, I heard that one of you managed to strike Squalo. He's Pioggia, by the way." The brunet paled. Striking one of the people of the Elemental Families without good reason was not a crime, per say, but it was a highly unintelligent thing to do. "What to do, what to do." Turning around, "Mu, why aren'tyou lot chasing Fran?" Apparently, they had sent out all the lower-level mugs out to catch her nephew. _Fools_, she thought.

"Ushishishi~ the prince will wait for the frog to come to him," Belphegor said cheekily.

_I pity you, Fran._

"VOOOOIIIIII! Let me have a go at the puny-looking kid; he's got potential!" Squalo roared.

_Uhhh...?_

"Muah! I've been running after that boy for so long that I'm almost sweaty!" Lussuria cried. "Ladies shouldn't sweat so much like this!"

_Lussuria, you're just creepy with that mindset, okay?_

"Hmph. I'm not going to bother chasing down that trash."

_Xanxus, you don't call a Nebbia 'trash', _Mammon thought as she tossed an illusionary trash bin at her boss. He shot it through with a growl. The life of the Varia was oh-so predictable.

"I go where Bossu goes," Levi declared.

_Of course, Levi. That's what you always say._

Mammon rolled her eyes under her hood. "Well, since a whole bunch of idiots will be staying here for a while. . ." She waved a hand, causing chairs to appear from the mist that always followed her, "You have to draw a group sketch of the Varia." The assassins, which had been relaxed and lazy, suddenly froze. Before any of them could run off, she bound them to the chairs with her favorite tentacle illusions.

"Mammon! Why are you doing this!? VOOOOIIII! I thought we were going to punish those trash!" Squalo roared.

The Nebbia gave him a polite smile that made him shut up immediately. "You see, Squalo, Vongola wants to see a group sketch of us, and it appears that he is an artist. If he draws us well enough to give to Vongola, I'll let him go. If not, then you guys can beat him up to your heart's content." Conjuring another chair, Mammon took a seat. "So, kiddo, I remember you as a shrimp that was taught by your father. Don't disappoint me." As if noticing Enma for the first time, "Shimon kid, you can stay by the alleyway entrance and shoo off the women. If a single one gets through, I'll choke you with my tentacles." The redhead went pale and hurried off to stand guard.

Tsuna took a deep breath and set up his easel, taking out his charcoals and drawing pad. "This will be as quick as possible. Please stay still, all of you." He gave the Varia a long glance and he got to work, sketching the guidelines first.

"Nufufufu~ Hello, Fran. Where were you today, and why are you wearing your street clothes?" Daemon greeted as Fran stumbled into his father's room, looking as emotionless as always.

Matter-of-factly, "I was doing Skylark-san a favor, then the Varia somehow got wind of me and I ended up running through half of Florence. But I met an amusing person today because of it."

"Hm?" Daemon hummed questioningly. "An interesting person, you say?"

"He's very interesting. He's a rare person to come by." As he had been conversing with his father, Fran had changed from his thin, worn, street clothes, donning a shirt, coat, pants, and boots of someone befitting his station. Popping on his outfit, the teen asked, "Have you seen Skylark-san?"

"I believe he's been in his private training room ever since he got into that spat with Mukuro at lunch," Daemon said idly as he continued reading his book.

"Thanks, Dad," Fran muttered as he displaced his last illusion of street clothes.

Daemon looked up from his book again upon hearing an ungodly screech from the barely-ever-opened window that his adopted son had just exited. The noble didn't bother closing it, knowing that Fran would be using it as an entrance again soon. "Really. I need to get around to talking to Fran about using windows as exits. . ." Yawning, Daemon decided it would be a nice time to get a new book from the Nuvola Library, so he stood up, grabbed his scythe just in case he ran into Alaude and got into a fight, and left the guest room...

...through the window. Like father, like son.

Tsuna's charcoal flew over the paper as if he was in a trance. He _had _to draw all the interesting details of these people. Xanxus's scars and hair ornament, the scratches on Squalo's sword and that incredibly long hair of his, the tiara Bel wore, Levi A. Than's eccentric electric-looking-hair, Lussuria's own odd hairstyle, and Mammon's face-markings. In the background were the bricks of the alley, with Enma stationed to head off the females. The artist was pretty sure that if he could draw interesting people like _this _everyday, he would improve exponentially.

Under her hood, Mammon eyed the boy with interest. He had been drawing for nearly forty-five minutes already, and the bells had tolled three only a little while ago. Of course, the real Varia had gone off to do things after being seated for fifteen minutes. Mammon herself was actually standing behind Tsuna, making an illusion of the Varia still sitting in front of him.

_Dear Kyoko and Maman,_

_How are you two and how is the farm going? It'll be winter soon. I hope you're doing better, Maman. I've gotten to draw a lot of interesting people lately, and I'll have drawn more by the time you guys have gotten this letter. _

_The reason why I'm writing so soon even though it's technically only been my second day here is because today, I got a commission! I drew an interesting group of people called the Varia! They're apparently a bunch of assassins, but they had really cool looks! Anyway, one of them paid me to draw them, and I got a good amount of money for it. _

_Enclosed, I have a canvas sketch, but inside the sketch, if you rip open the back, there will be the gold coins that I earned today. Is the doctor still around? I hope Shamal doesn't leave and start chasing after women again. I'm paying him for a reason, after all. _

_Anyway, I have to cut this letter short now. Hana and Ryohei are almost coming home, and I have to get there before they do. Oh! Ryohei nii and Hana are doing well as ever. They're a funny sort of couple. They sometimes bicker- well, Hana scolds Ryohei-nii a lot- but it's all friendly and funny. _

_I also ran into the Nuvola! They're really- they have really neat looks, too! Really neat! I got to draw- apparently, the three sons were the Nuvola. . . huh, funny; I've been having run-ins with the Elemental Families lately. _

_Anyway, ciao for now, and please get better soon, Maman!_

_Sincerely,_

_Tsunayoshi, Your Son and Brother_

_P.S. Since I won't be there for Christ's Mass, well, Merry Christmas!_

Mammon looked at the drawing that she held in her hands with a keen eye. It was amazing, really, the sheer potential that the boy held. He had drawn the Varia with such impeccable detail that really, it looked like he had somehow simply captured their image and put it on paper. "Mu, this child. . . Fran has proved interesting to him. Hm. . . they won't be boring staying in Florence after all. . ."

"Mammon-san!" a certain annoying Nuvola called out to her. Her good mood disappeared instantly as she saw Fong come around the corner, his hands in his sleeves as usual. She hated him. Oh, how she _loathed _the man. "Mammon-san! Oh, there you are! Would you possibly wish to come out for a quick snack? Are you hungry? We're going to be eating soon, after all."

The illusionist glowered at him from under her hood. "Mu, I'm fine; I don't need to eat food like that."

"Mammon-san, you should eat, you know. It's bad for your health."

She was about to give him a retort when, disregarding her wishes, Fong picked her up with her legs on one arm and his other arm supporting her back. "Mu, l-l-l-le-le-let go of me!" she squawked.

He laughed. "Mammon-san, it's not healthy for your body if you don't eat. I know you are an illusionist, and your attacks concentrate on your mind, but really, you should eat." Ignoring her protests completely, Fong carried her all the way to the kitchen. The drawing that she had been holding was left drifting down to the floor in the hallway.

* * *

**OMAKE!**

**TItle: Nuvola and Nebbia - Dinnertime**

"Mu, I don't want to eat," Mammon complained the moment she entered.

Daemon and Mukuro frowned as they stood at the dinner table.

"Nufufufu..."

"Kufufufu..."

"Father."

"Mukuro-nii."

"What!?"

"Eat."

"That. . . abominable fruit salad in the middle of the table!?" they both spluttered at the same time.

All five Nuvola looked at the pineapple, watermelon, and apple salad that was in the center of the table. Daemon's eyebrow twitched as he tried to refrain from smashing the intricate piece of crystal.

"Mu, don't rack up damage costs," Mammon hissed.

A few minutes later, all the skylarks stepped in, with Fong, Lal, and I-Pin. "Herbivores."

"Kufufu~ I'm so glad that you're happy to see me, birdie," Mukuro taunted, hiding his anger at the affronting salad on the table.

"Nufufu~ Alaude? Still having fun fiddling with your poor excuse of a weapon? Handcuffs, really?"

On that cue, both skylarks' eyebrows twitched.

And that was how, when Riccio finally entered the dining room, he found the entire room a mess of gouges with Mammon and most of his kids in one corner- Mammon taking bets, something he highly disapproved of- and with Kyoya, Alaude, Mukuro, and Daemon fighting in the center of the room.

All of a sudden, Fong said something to Mammon, and then tentacles attacked. He sighed. Make that Fran, Chrome, Lal, and I-Pin standing on the side of the room with Fong, Mammon, Hibari, Alaude, Daemon, and Mukuro fighting.

He sighed again."Kids these days."

* * *

**Exile:... you know, I'll just null the 200 word = 1 review policy. I write WAAAAAAY too much for this fic, and would go over it anyways |D**

**But still, please review! They're incredibly encouraging.**

**Also, I edited some of last chapter to make it more geographically correct.**


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